Remember
by Lady Emzebel
Summary: On his birthday-the first since leaving his home island-Zoro is haunted by the the blue-haired, sword-wielding girl of his past. It's only to be expected, given the date... Oneshot.


Title: Remember...

Rating: K+

Pairing: Bit of ZoSan, nothing major.

Warnings: Itsy bit of yaoi, nothing really happens. Some fluff, some angst, some mild swearing.

Disclaimer: Play the record again Johnny. "One Piece isn't mine."

A/N: There's not really a fixed timeframe for this but it's supposed to be the first birthday Zoro ever spends away from home. Home being his village back on the island where his sensei lives. Also I fail at angst, so yeah, please provide some feedback.

.........

While out at sea on the Going Merry, there was never really a solid way of keeping track of the days until you stopped at the next island and snagged a newspaper or something. Sure, the Strawhats had a calendar, but it was in the girl's room, and it's not like any of their male nakama were permitted in there.

Zoro was never really bothered. He didn't measure time by days or months. Instead, he measured it in meals, reps, katas, and those occasional, skin-of-the-teeth battles in which victory meant he really, honestly, felt like he was getting strong enough to beat Mihawk.

So it was, on some day during some week within an unknown month of the umpteenth year, Zoro had no clue what the date was when he stepped off the Merry's gangplank for a leisurely stroll along the pier...

...which quickly developed into a trek through the backstreet slums of a seaport town...

...on the other side of the island.

_All the scenery looked the same, damn it!_

Throughout the majority of the day, which Zoro primarily spent lost, his thoughts were plagued by a certain sword-wielding, blue-haired girl. A girl whose ghost he was sure he had left behind on his home island.

_Seems not_. Zoro mused grimly as he turned down yet another back alley. _Probably never be free of her...not until I fulfill our promise...but then..._

He stroked Wadou's hilt.

_...do I even want to be free?_

As a child, Zoro drank in every word his sensei taught him, trained in his dojo, and revelled in his guidance. Through his sensei, he believed, he would learn the skills to become a master swordsman. The sensei's daughter was merely the opposition and, to some extent, the prize.

As a young man, he now realised he owed part of his training to Kuina. She had taught him the meaning of determination, the meaning of sheer grit. By knocking him head over heels two thousand times with Shinai, and once with her own Wadou, she had cemented within him a furious passion to defy defeat.

As his sensei had taught him, he would accept defeat honourably should the situation arise.

But as Kuina had taught him, he would make sure aforementioned situation did not happen.

_Not so easy to willingly forget the ones you owe a great debt, I suppose._

_You carry her sword; it's not easy to forget her, willingly or otherwise._

_Then why does she haunt me today of all days?_

_Why haunt you at all? You won't forget your promise for anything. _

_Back home she never filled my head like this._

_You're not back home though are you?_

_But still..._

_If you've got time to dwell on the past, then you obviously need more training._

_Obviously..._

"Swordsman-san?"

Zoro jerked back to reality as a hand sprouted from his shoulder, sending a few flower petals and the fragrance of lilies fluttering past his cheek.

When he scanned the thinning crowds through the hazy filter of dusk for the conjurer of said appendage, the hand languidly gestured towards a street lined with stalls. Standing in front of one bending under its burden of books, was Nico Robin. The hand vanished.

"What do you want woman?" Still wary towards archaeologist for her previous affiliations with Baroque works, Zoro was noticeably brusque with her as he approached. She seemed unperturbed by his tone.

"The sun is about to go down soon. I wondered if you might wish to return to the ship now, or you'll risk missing dinner. Cook-san will not be pleased."

"Oh dearie me, it certainly wouldn't do to get that pissy little skirt-chaser upset. Che," he scoffed. "And I can return to the ship myself, thanks!"

"Very well, swordsman-san. I shall see you tomorrow morning." Robin turned to depart, sweeping a bag of her purchases up from the cobblestone street.

"Tomorrow, why tomorrow..?"

Then he understood.

"Oi!"

Robin smothered a laugh daintily with one hand as Zoro shook a fist at her retreating back. When she was a good ten feet ahead of him he grumbled and grudgingly decided to follow.

Just to ensure _she_ didn't get lost, of course.

..........

Bearing in mind the fact that Zoro was still unaware of what day it was, it was understandable that he was given quite the surprise when he entered the galley after Robin that evening.

"Surprise!"

Balloons and brightly-coloured streamers lent rainbow hues to the small, well-lit room. Judging by the higgledy-piggledy arrangement he would hazard a guess that Chopper and Luffy had had a hand in their placement, despite Usopp's would-be careful guidance.

Everyone but the cook was already seated around the table, which was groaning under dish after steaming dish of Zoro's favourite food: Seaking meat, rice, and fresh vegetables. A large, unopened bottle of fine sake sat beside the only unoccupied chair, over which a small banner loudly proclaimed in crayoned letters "_The Birthday Boy_" complete with an arrow pointing downwards to chair in which he was clearly supposed to sit.

_I'm going to kill that cook..._

But despite his internal threat, Zoro couldn't help but grin and allow Sanji to grab his wrist and pull him to his place at the table.

The buttocks of both men had hardly touched their seats before Luffy promptly grabbed a large bowl of Seaking stew-topped rice and buried his face in it. Nami screeched and hit her captain round the back of the head for his gluttony, causing him to almost choke. Chopper panicked and called for a doctor before regaining his head and quickly performing the Heimlich manoeuvre. Doing so, a good mouthful of half-chewed food was dislodged from Luffy's throat and sent rocketing towards Usopp's head. He ducked and retaliated by lobbing a spoon at his captain. It bounced off one rubbery arm and hit the sniper square on the nose, causing Sanji, Zoro, and Robin to fall about laughing, though Robin was slightly more dignified about it than the boys.

And thus ensued the expected chaos for the duration of the meal.

.........

For desert Sanji brought out a cake.

"Pleasantly reduced in sweetness for the oh-so-picky birthday boy," he simpered, fluttering his eyelashes mockingly at the swordsman.

"Shut up, ero-cook."

"Insult me anymore and you'll be using your birthday wish to escape my wrath tomorrow."

"Sanji! Cake!"

"Luffy, sit down!"

"Usopp, do me a favour and grab the ice cream. In the freezer, right at the back."

"Aha! The great Usopp-sama braves the wild arctic terrain of the land of Freeza, to bring back the legendary tub of deliciousness for his beloved, devoted followers..."

"Before the marimo gets any older please, long-nose."

"Here you are Cook-san."

"Mellorine! Thank you my precious! Robin-chwan is so kind and thoughtful and helpful..."

"She didn't even get out of her seat..."

"Ya snooze, you lose Usopp," remarked Zoro cheerfully as he scooped a generous helping of the frozen treat onto his warm cake.

Though it came to a surprise to anyone who had known him for any length of time, Roronoa Zoro actually did like ice cream. Sanji's special homemade strawberry ice cream to be exact; not too sweet but certainly not bland either.

Zoro may never have been particularly fussy about what he ate, but in his opinion food had to have at least _some _taste otherwise it was basically just like chewing cardboard. Cardboard was _not_ food, and the only non-edible things the swordsman ever permitted in his mouth at any given time were Wadou's hilt and Sanji's, um...nipple...yeah, nipple.

"Hurry up Zoroooo, you gotta open your presents!"

"Leave him alone, you impatient bastard. He's savouring _my _icecream."

"Nuhumnurt," Zoro mumbled around a bulging mouthful of his desert as he scooped up the last of it. Sanji glared.

"You inhaled that last bit on purpose didn't you, asshole?"

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did _not_."

"Did _too_!"

"PRESENTS!"

Sanji stuck his tongue out at Zoro in triumph, as several of Robin's arms sprouted from the woodwork and pushed five parcels, all in varying shapes and sizes, towards the swordsman.

"I'll go get my gift, Robin-chan."

"Very well, cook-san."

He departed and Luffy wasted no time in sliding into his seat to Zoro's right. The rubber captain was vibrating he was so excited; if anyone didn't know better, they'd think it was _his_ birthday.

"Open mine first. Open mine first!"

The gift he indicated had obviously not been wrapped under supervision. The green paper stuck out here and there, and in some parts it had been bandaged so much in tape it resembled a mummy. All the same, Zoro reached for it eagerly, noting the peculiar shape under the hotchpotch wrapping.

Sanji re-entered just as the swordsman peeled back the last, stubborn layer of paper.

"So that's where my damn barbecue sauce went!"

"Shishishishi."

"Sweet. Why barbecue?"

"Cuz it makes everything taste manlier, Zoro."

"...I don't wanna know. Thanks captain."

"Welcome."

Zoro shook his head at Luffy's ear-to-ear grin and reached out to ruffle his black hair.

"Well cook, you heard the man. First chance you get, make me a dish with this, and make it the manliest dish you've ever cooked."

"Yeah yeah yeah, like you need any more testosterone, lug head." He pointed at a prettily-wrapped parcel and an envelope sitting amongst their slightly more dishevelled brethren. "Look, open the girls' presents before you nauseate them with your man-stench."

Zoro snorted and did as he was bid.

Robin's present was a book. But not just any book.

"_Swordsmen Throughout the Ages_?"

"I thought you might find it interesting, swordsman-san."

Well, if nothing else, it had certainly improved Robin's image in his eyes.

"Thanks...I'll find some time to read it later."

He set it carefully aside, next to Luffy's barbeque sauce, and reached for Nami's envelope.

"Just so you know Zoro, I have also taken the liberty of dropping ten thousand beri off your debt. Aren't you pleased?"

"Positively euphoric."

"Ahh, Nami-swan is so adorable when she takes money from the marimo's debt..."

"A coupon?"

"Not _just_ any coupon," Nami sniffed, sounding affronted.

"Ah, excuse me. I mean, a special half-price coupon for an all-day haramaki sale, extra price reduction on all those the colour green."

Zoro considered this gift looking mildly impressed.

"The sale's on the island tomorrow. Sanji-kun can go with you to make sure you don't get lost."

"I don't get lost woman!"

"Don't talk to Nami-swan that way!"

"Zoro, will you open mine now?"

Chopper shyly pushed a blocky parcel towards the swordsman and he took it with a smile, completely ignoring his previous fight with the cook in favour of the little doctor

"Two-in-one ice and heat pack. Perfect for relieving aching muscles." Zoro read from the back of the box. "Thanks Chopper."

"They'll reduce the strain on your muscles if you use it between your workout sessions. Then you'll be able to train for longer, without suffering damage."

"Just what you'd expect from the number one doctor-san."

"Bitch! Your compliments don't make me happy!" Chopper squealed as he bounced happily in his seat, blushing furiously.

"Right, who's next? Usopp?"

"You bet."

Looking back, Zoro supposed he should have been warier about the sniper's gift, especially considering the fact that he was grinning like a maniac the entire time it was unwrapped, and that he did not precede its opening with a long, grandiose tale of its purchase.

"And it is a jar of sword polish...and a bottle of-nyyyyghhhaaaa!"

"What's the matter!?"

"Nothing! I just nearly dropped it! Ehem, yes, thanks for the sword polish long-nose."

Zoro prayed to the gods he didn't believe in that no one saw fit to inquire about the lube he had just hastily concealed in his haramaki.

"You're welcome Zoro-kun."

Zoro desperately tried to ignore the sniper's suggestive eyebrow waggle as his eyes darted between the swordsman and the cook.

Sanji presented his gift, a green box with a green ribbon, with a flourish.

"Happy Birthday Marimo."

A susurrus of titters swept around the table. Zoro frowned in suspicion but pulled the box towards him nevertheless.

Opening it he discovered a mossy green ball.

The titters evolved into barely concealed snorts of laughter. Sanji smirked as he lit up a cigarette.

"Zoro, meet Ferjie the marimo. He's been dying to reunite with his long lost cousin."

Everyone fell to pieces at that. Nami and Usopp even slipped from their chairs they were laughing so hard.

Zoro reached out and seized Sanji by the front of his shirt, pulling him down so they were eye to eye.

"Very funny, cook..."

Sanji just smiled and blew a stream of smoke past his ear.

"I'll give you another present tonight...if you come join me on my watch...we'll test out Usopp's oh-so-useful little gift..."

Zoro bared his teeth in an animalistic grin and released Sanji as their nakama's laugh attack began to subside.

Oh yes, this should be good.

.........

With the rest of his birthday presents safely stowed in or around Zoro's sleeping place, he sat on the couch, waiting for the time of his meeting with Sanji.

To pass the time, he took Ferjie in one hand and examined him. Though he'd never admit it to anyone, especially not the cook, the little moss ball really was sort of cute.

"Hmm. Squidgy."

When he went to place the marimo on the low table beside the couch, his wrist brushed against the tin of sword polish Usopp had given him, knocking it to the floor. With lightning-fast reflexes, Zoro caught again with no trouble and was going to set it back in its place when the label caught his eye.

It wasn't particularly flashy, indeed, it was more its simplicity that beckoned further inspection. The tin itself was painted white, the brand printed in dark green kanji. Behind the stark calligraphy, there was a simple watercolour image of a dojo in a valley, the rolling hills and rectangular building captured perfectly in just a few brush strokes.

When Zoro peered closer, he found the miniscule figures of the dojo's students seated in the grass with their sensei. Together, they watched a practise fight between two more students, one clearly triumphing over the other.

A stab of pain shot through his chest.

_Kuina._

And just like that, it was as if someone had turned back the clock a few hours and shoved Zoro back to his painful musings of his childhood friend. For a moment, he even wondered if the party in the galley with his nakama had even happened; whether he'd just imagined the whole scene, and in reality he'd just gone through a whole straight day mooning after Kuina.

But no, his presents still lingered beside the couch, and the sword polish in his hands felt wholly solid and real. He clenched the tin until his knuckles turned white and he was forced to loosen his grip lest it shatter in his hands.

"My hands...my hands are not shaking," he told himself quietly. He put the sword polish down on the table again.

He crossed his legs and folded his arms, focusing on clearing his mind to meditate. The problem was that whenever he deliberately cleared his mind, he ended up thinking about what he most wanted to avoid. It was maddening.

Eventually, he just sat stock still on the couch, his head in his hands, as images of Kuina played through his head...

_...her stance when he'd first challenged her, firm and proud... _

_...a mocking smile playing about her lips with each loss he suffered at her hands..._

_...the graceful curve of her spine as she flipped through the air to deflect a move he'd worked so hard to perfect..._

_...the way she used to tease him in that braying, bossy older-girl voice simply dripping with arrogance..._

_...the rare smile she'd quickly hide when he bested the other boys, second only to her..._

_...her rigid posture as she retrieved the white-hilted blade from storage..._

_...the cool calm that descended about her when she wielded her real sword on the grassy plain..._

_...that terrifying darkness that hooded her eyes as she thrust Wadou's blade into the ground centimetres from his head..._

_...her tears..._

_...her promise..._

_...her prone figure on the dojo floor, her eyes shielded from his gaze by the cloth over her still face..._

He shook his head. He didn't want that last imagine in there. It hurt too much.

Steel slicing through skin, muscle and bone he could take...but not this emotional anguish. He cast about for happier memories...

...and remembered the second birthday he'd celebrated at the dojo, a year to the day Kuina had defeated him and he'd been forced to join her father's dojo.

Sensei did as he always did for any of his student's birthdays: presented him with a rice ball at lunchtime that was far larger than the rest, and gave him an hour of freedom to do as he wished. Needless to say, Zoro spent it alternatively training and meditating.

Kuina found him at the edge of a small pond, doing push ups with three boulders balanced on his back.

She'd thrown a whetstone at his head and left without another word.

He smiled at the memory. He still had that whetstone...

"Oi, marimo!"

Zoro jerked in surprise. He hadn't heard the cook approach. He scowled.

"Whaddaya want cook?"

"Well, I _did _have a previous engagement but it seems the person I was supposed to be meeting spaced out on a couch somewhere."

Sanji pointedly glared at Zoro, causing a slight twinge in the swordsman's stomach as he realised just how late it had gotten.

It also reminded him of the time Kuina had scowled and beaten him with a Shinai after he'd gotten lost in the hills surrounding the dojo...seems sensei got his travel-savvy daughter to bring him back...

"Oi, you're spacing again. Honestly, what am I going to do with you?" Sanji wandered over and sat on the couch beside Zoro, his posture relaxed as he breathed a noxious cloud into the cabin.

Relaxed...and graceful...like Kuina when she sat under the sakura tree in spring and meditated...

Zoro shifted on the couch, turning his back resolutely on the blonde.

"Leave me alone cook, I'm not in the mood."

The swordsman briefly wondered if Sanji was going to kick him and stiffened, hunching his shoulders and bracing for the bite of steel-toed loafers against his spine.

His breath hitched in surprise when, instead, Sanji shifted behind him and sat so they were pressed back to back. The cook's blonde hair brushed his right ear as he leant his head back on the swordsman's shoulder, taking another deep drag from his cigarette.

"Alright...what's eating you?"

Kuina never would have asked that...

"Nothing."

...it just wasn't something she did...

"My ass," Sanji scoffed.

...if she saw Zoro blue...

"You care?"

...she beat him with Shinai...

"I care."

....and though it was the thought that counted...

"You won't understand."

...and Zoro appreciated it immensely...

"Maybe not, but I'll listen regardless."

...he sort of liked this better.

"Fine."

Sanji was silent as Zoro told him of an island back in the East Blue where a small dojo sat nestled in the crook of a narrow valley, owned by a sensei with a daughter so skilled with a sword she could send even adults flying.

He chuckled in appreciation when Zoro recounted the story of a young green-haired orphan and his desire to take the dojo's sign, a symbol of honour, only to be soundly thrashed by the sensei's daughter and integrated into the dojo as a student as a result.

He breathed in awe to hear of the boy's one thousand and ninety nine defeats at her hands since that day, and quieted again when told of his burning wish to defeat her at least once and he fight on the grassy plain, where real blades crossed under a moonlit sky, which marked the boy's two-thousand-and-one loss.

A noise of comprehension issued from the cook when told of the girl's tears followed by the young boy's angry lecture and eventually, the children's promise to one another.

Sanji pressed his fingers tenderly against the skin of Zoro's wrist when the swordsman's breath hitched upon recounting the sensei's daughter's tumble down the storage steps to her death the very next day, and the boy's talk with her father; asking for her sword and vowing to fulfill their promise for the both of them.

In the silence that followed Zoro's words, Sanji made no move to say anything. Then he stubbed out his cigarette and spoke.

"Strange that you should think of her this day..."

"Strange?"

"Mmmhmmm. Robin was telling me about it a few days ago. Apparently, several years back, there was this group of islands up in North Blue..."

He paused to light another cigarette.

"...who were all fighting in this huge war against one another over some such idiocy—some moron got it in his head to assassinate some royalty—and an insane amount of people were killed."

He took another drag.

"Anyway the war finally ended after two straight years of fighting, and this other lord guy decrees that there be a day where everyone takes the time to remember and honour the fallen. Bit ironic, but there you have it. The day is officially recognised as Remembrance Day."

His hand moved up to settle gently on Zoro's left shoulder.

"Guess what. That day is today. November the eleventh. Strange, huh?"

Zoro smiled.

"Yeah, strange."

He put his hand over Sanji's.

"Guess you didn't get to give me my second birthday present..."

The cook caught his silent apology and smiled.

"No problem. There's always tomorrow."

There was a short moment of comfortable silence, in which Zoro's head was suddenly and inexplicably filled with the image of a very smug, smirking Kuina.

_Hmm. Remembrance Day, eh?_

"Oi cook...Sanji?"

"Yeah?"

He took the blonde's hand in his own and squeezed.

"Thanks."

The hand squeezed back.

"You're welcome."

.........

Zoro gets enough PWP on his birthday. Time for a change.

I apologize for such presumption, but I ask that we spend a few minutes in silence to honour the war veterans of the two World Wars. May they rest eternally in peace.

Amen.


End file.
